


In sickness and in health

by pjlover666



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/pseuds/pjlover666
Summary: AU. After a horrible accident, Prowl still struggles to cope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't know why I wrote this. The bunny came and bit hard and didn't leave me alone until I wrote it, even though I don't like to write sad things. I don't know if I will write more of this verse; maybe I will or won't, it all depends on the muses.  
>  Not beta'd.

Prowl gave a small gasp of pleasure as suddenly his mouth was free while the other trailed kisses over his jawline, down his throat and slowly made his way to kiss his neck. The Praxian shuddered, wrapping his arms against the mech, grinding their frames together and shuttering his optics. He pictured the black and white frame, the cheeky grin and knowing look as an expert servo reached for a door-wing, caressing it.

Then there were lips over his again in a rough kiss before the other pulled away to whisper in his audio with an unfamiliar voice. “Oh Prowl…”

Prowl’s optics flickered on at the sound of that strange voice and he gazed at a green optics where there should have been a visor. A blue frame instead of a black and white one was pressed against his and suddenly Prowl became painfully aware of the stranger in his lap.

No. This was /wrong/.

“Stop.” Prowl suddenly found his voice and hands that had been clutching the other suddenly started to push him away.

“Prowl?” The mech paused, pulling back to look down curiously at the other. “What’s wrong? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“I-I can’t do this. Get off.” Prowl managed, avoiding the other’s optics, suddenly feeling so ashamed. His frame burned everywhere this mech had touched him.

“It’s okay.” The mech (whose name Prowl suddenly forgot) crooned gently at him, “Don’t worry. He won’t even know.”

“But /I/ will. Get. Off.” Prowl pushed the mech off him onto the couch and got up, shuddering. “This was a mistake. I should have never come here. I’m sorry.”

“Why? He’s gone, Prowl…” The mech said gently, “You deserve a night off. Prowler…”

“Don’t!” Prowl raised his voice and wings, the shame and disgust at himself making him even more angry. “Don’t you _dare_ call me that. My designation is Prowl and nothing else.”

With that the Praxian stormed out the apartment, having the most horrible feeling in his chest. He gritted his denta, trying to fight off the tears that wanted to spill. Thankfully he transformed before that and quickly drove off.

On his way home Prowl broke the speed limit twice. That only seemed to make him amused, but not the good kind of amused, but rather that bitter kind that made more tears try to escape. He transformed and felt the emotions wreck a havoc in him with each step he made inside the apartment building. Shame and disgust battled with fear of what he’ll find in his apartment and sadness so deep Prowl felt like he was drowning. His spark /hurt/ so much that his little experiment only made the wound bleed again.

It was quiet in his apartment after he unlocked the door. Suddenly, Prowl felt the weight of the entire world on his shoulders as the silence deafened him. He paused there for a moment, looking over the empty room. Everything seemed in order. Just like he had left it. Prowl then went to the kitchen and checked the counter. The cube was still there and full. Just as he had left it. His door-wings sagged.

Prowl took the cube and headed for the berth room. Upon entering it was also dark, but he could clearly see a figure next to the window.

“…I’m back.” Prowl dared himself to say after he found his voice.

The mech suddenly turned and the visor brightened. There was a moment of confusion, the other just staring at Prowl for a long moment before recognition came.

“Prowler, you’re back!” The mech explained, happy, and quickly went to hug the other, pressing close.

“Of course I did.” Prowl murmured, wrapping his free hand around Jazz and holding him close, “I’ll always come back, Jazz.” He told the other, feeling something in his spark lift when he received a smile. “You forgot to drink your energon again.” He motioned for the cube as he offered it.

“Energon?” Jazz repeated confused as he looked from Prowl to the cube.

“Yes, energon. You need to fuel. Energon is very important.” Prowl said, the words rolling out of his mouth with ease and familiarity.

Jazz just stared at the other, uncomprehending, before Prowl made a soft sound and led them to the berth, where he had Jazz sit down and placed the cube in his hands, lifting them up until the cube touched Jazz’s lips and the visored mech took a sip, remembering what he was supposed to do.

Prowl let him go when he was sure Jazz wouldn’t drop the cube and wrapped a hand around the other, holding him close. He shuttered his optics, door-wings flat on his back as his frame burned. He touched his lips and felt the shame swallow him whole.

“Prowl?”

At the sound of his voice, Prowl opened his optics and gazed at Jazz. His beautiful, perfect bondmate. He didn’t need to be looking at him to feel the confusion in the other. Jazz seemed like he wanted to tell more, to say something, /anything/, but the words eluded him.

Prowl managed a sad smile for the other, “What were you doing in the dark?” He glanced at the window that no longer could be opened from the inside, “Where you watching the stars again?”

That Jazz understood and nodded him help, looking back towards the window. “They’re pretty.” Jazz murmured before he turned to look at the Praxian again. Then, he leaned forward and pressed a hand right above Prowl’s spark and looked in his optics. “…Prowler?”

Prowl felt the other’s confusion and his concern as well, “I…I’m alright, Jazz. Don’t worry.”

“You came back.”

“I always come back. You know I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There was no confusion, no hesitation every single time Jazz said those words. Not once did he seem to think or wonder about them and Prowl felt the tears he had been holding back finally spill.

“I know. I know, my wonderful mate.” Prowl took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions, “Now, do you want to cuddle on the couch?”

Jazz didn’t comprehend the words. He rarely did. Still, he said the one thing he knew, “I love you.”

Even if every time it felt like daggers to Prowl’s spark.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go, love.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl and Jazz meet some old friends after the accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because many people were curious as to what exactly happened to Jazz, this chapter should give you some clarity ^^ Also, I've decided to write sporadic oneshots for this verse, showing different moments of Prowl's and Jazz's life, their friends, and how they all learn to deal with this development. The chapters won't be posted in chronological order.  
> Sorry, it's again not beta'd ^^"

“Hey, look, isn’t that Prowl?”

Sunstreaker glanced over to where his brother was motioning and indeed, that was Prowl walking hand in hand with Jazz in the park. He couldn’t help but frown, just staring at the two.

“Huh, I thought Jazz was really bad off. I hadn’t seen them since before the accident.” Sideswipe mused on the bench next to him. “I heard…. Well, I heard some really bad things about him. They said his helm was literally _crushed_. It’s good that he seems well.”

“Where do you even get this information from?” Sunstreaker asked. He still kept watching Prowl as the mech paused when Jazz stopped and pointed at a crystal. 

“Gossip.” Sideswipe muttered. “It’s not the most noble way to acquire information but I can’t just comm Prowl and say, ‘Hey, how’s Jazz? Is his processor still a mush?’ now can I?”

Sunstreaker’s frown deepened, feeling his spark constrict in his chest. “You can ask him now because they are headed our way.”

Sideswipe sat up straighter on the bench, before saying in a low voice. “...How do I act around them?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say not like an aft.” Was the dry reply.

“What if I say something insensitive?”

“Then I’ll smack you over the helm and you’ll know it was.” Came Sunstreaker’s response as Prowl led Jazz over to them.

Sideswipe was about to say something else but he chose to greet the couple instead, “Hey you two.” He gave them a strained grin. “I haven’t seen you in...well, months.”

“Hello Sideswipe, Sunstreaker.” Prowl spoke much like he had always greeted them before and for a moment everything even seemed _normal_. Except, Jazz was quiet. He wasn’t even looking at them. He was staring at the fountain in the distance. “It has been a while, yes. How is business going?”

Sunstreaker’s spark grew even heaver as he tried to keep his face neutral. “Sideswipe found some buyers for my paintings from Praxus actually. So thing are going well.”

“Yeah, we’re just hanging out in the park. Well, Sunny came to paint, I decided to bug him on our orn off.” Sideswipe added, optics still staring at Jazz and Sunstreaker could feel how much it was upsetting his brother. The red mech seemed to hesitate before he found the courage to speak. “H-Hey Jazz, how’s it going?”

The visored mech turned to look at Sideswipe when he recognized his designation and blinked at him. “Going where?” Jazz asked, confused. He glanced back at the fountain, fixated by it.

“Why don’t you take him to the fountain?” Prowl suddenly spoke up, startling the twins.

“Are you sure?” Sideswipe asked as his brother chose to remain silent. “I mean, I-I...”

“I’m positive.” Prowl spoke calmly, “He needs more contact with other mechs. More processor stimuli. He reacts well to me because we are bonded, but it’s good for him to interact with others as much as he can.”

“...I see.” Sideswipe stood up from the bench after sharing an uncertain glance with his brother. He hesitated, unsure how to act around Jazz. It pained him to see someone that could’ve run intellectual circles (there, Sideswipe admitted it) around him be reduced to...this.

Seeing the other’s uncertainty, Prowl took Sideswipe’s hand and placed Jazz’s in it, speaking to the visored mech. “This is Sideswipe, remember Jazz?”

The visored mech looked back at Prowl, “Sideswipe?”

“Yes. And that’s Sunstreaker. The twins. They are our friends.” Prowl explained patiently. 

Jazz seemed to think for a long moment, confusion clear in his field before the other nodded. “With the paintings?”

“Exactly.” Praised Prowl, “Sunstreaker paints. Now, go see the fountain with Sideswipe, alright?” The Praxian said with an even tone. Yet, this was the first time the twins see them interacting after the accident. They knew it was bad. They _heard_ it was bad. 

But seeing it… Seeing Jazz like this….

Sunstreaker looked away as his brother led Jazz over to the fountain. Prowl sat on the bench next to him and silence joined them, before the yellow mech couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I know it’s nothing but a lousy excuse but Sides and I really did want to call you after… We just didn’t know how.” Sunstreaker muttered, still looking away.

“I probably wouldn’t have answered anyway.” Murmured Prowl, looking over at Sideswipe and Jazz.

A huff was his answer, but Sunstreaker was more frustrated at the situation than anything else. “...Prowl, if it’s okay to ask, what exactly is wrong with him?”

Prowl was silent for a couple of moments, enough time to have Sunstreaker mentally kick himself for asking that. “He can’t process thoughts correctly.” The Praxian answered eventually. 

“What?” Asked the yellow mech, “What do you mean?”

“The crash… His helm suffered serious damage. By then, the medics had managed to stabilize his spark and the only worry was how much of his memories he would lose. At least, that was the assumption. But he woke up and it wasn’t a memory loss. It was worse. “

Sunstreaker shuddered despite himself, looking down at his pedes, “What about wiping him clean? It... it’ll remove the memories but won’t it fix the mess in his helm?”

“No, I asked the medics about that as well. The problem isn’t the memories. Parts in his processor _can’t_ connect correctly. A thought is always generated but it’s either not processed at all, or just partially. Sometimes though, he understands.” Prowl spoke quietly.

“…I’m so sorry Prowl.” Sunstreaker whispered, pained and rubbed his face, suddenly weary. How could something like this happen? _Why_ did it happen? And why did it have to happen to _Prowl_ of all mechs?

“...I know it’s the stupidest question in the world, but, how are you?” Sunstreaker managed to ask, glancing at the Praxian.

“Right now? I’m...holding myself together as best as I can.” Prowl spoke quietly. “If you had asked me this after the accident, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to answer. I was...worried and angry and in denial that this is really Jazz.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” Whispered Sunstreaker, “Primus.”

“Things are better now, after I accepted things.” Prowl told him, “I took Jazz to so many medics, flew all the way back home to Praxus and spoke with experts there as well. They all said there was nothing to be done. Some even offered to break the bond and have Jazz committed in a care center.”

Sunstreaker didn’t know what to say to that. He just buried his face in his hands, assaulted by memories of Jazz before the accident. “I’m sorry.”

Prowl finally looked down, “...We were both so miserable. Jazz and I. His confusion, especially inside the hospitals easily turned into fear. He didn’t understand what was happening or why he was there. It was hurting him. And his pain is like a dagger to my spark. Until the orn I had enough and took him home. Soon, he remembered how to smile again and… I accepted this. And a weight lifted.”

Sunstreaker brushed the few tears that had managed to escape and took a deep breath. “H-He does seem happy.” Finally he looked over at his brother and Jazz. The visored mech was smiling, reaching into the fountain while Sideswipe made sure he wouldn’t topple over. “A-and really enjoys the fountain.”

A sad smile formed on Prowl’s lips, “This is where we met. And the place where I proposed bonding.”

Sunstreaker looked from Jazz to Prowl and back. “...So that’s why he likes it here so much.”

Prowl nodded, “I would like to believe that. We passed many fountains on our way here. This is the only one he seems interested in.”

“That’s good, right?” Sunstreaker asked, sounding hopeful. “Maybe slowly he’ll get better?”

Prowl hesitated before looking over Sunstreaker, “...Maybe.”

“You should come over the studio more often. With Jazz too.” Sunstreaker offered.

“I’ll see if I can make time. Now, I’ll go rescue your brother. He seems rather awkward around Jazz.”

“He--” Sunstreaker started quickly to make an excuse, but it wasn’t needed.

“It’s alright.” Prowl brushed it off, “I understand.”

Sunstreaker hesitated, “If you need help, we’re just a comm away. Sides and I.”

“I know.” Prowl said and a sad smile appeared for a moment on his face. He forced his door-wings up from their low position and Sunstreaker watched as Jazz’s smile changed, it grew, when he saw Prowl and the Praxian took his hand.

“Well, that was...” Suddenly Sideswipe was in his vision speaking and Sunstreaker looked up to his brother who was staring down at him. “Jazz is…” He sighted. “He has a bracelet, did you see?”

Sunstreaker didn’t answer and the red mech took that as a cue to go on. “One of those bracelets with a designation and a comm number in case, you know… he gets lost.” He sat down heavily next to his brother. “S’wierd. How’s Prowl?”

“How can he be?” Asked Sunstreaker. “Holding himself together as best as he can. He seems to have things under control.”

“If anyone can find a way to overcome this, it’s Prowl. He’s smart.” Sideswipe said, but it was more in an attempt to reassure himself than anything else.

“For his and Jazz’s sake, I hope you’re right.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl's struggling to come in terms with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a few weeks after the accident, so when it comes to the previous chapters, this is the earliest one so far.

Prowl’s internal alarm woke him up. His optics slowly opened and for a couple of more blissful moments he was still unaware of reality. But then he felt the warm frame pressed next to him and he couldn’t help but squeeze Jazz a little bit closer, the other still deep in recharge. Prowl just stared at his ceiling for a long moment, gathering strength for another orn and checking his list of things to do.

It had barely been three weeks since Jazz was out of the hospital and already an ornly routine had been set up by him. Patterns. Routine and familiarity. Jazz needed that in order to help him heal.

First thing for the orn was breakfast.

With a parting kiss to Jazz’s bandaged forehead Prowl carefully extracted himself from the berth and his mate, who stirred but the Praxian soothed him with a hand over a sensor horn and went to the kitchen. Breakfast was quickly done, an energon mix rich of minerals and metals for Jazz and Prowl let it cool while he went to the living room.

As the Praxian gathered all the items scattered there he wrote to his work station again, checking to see if his request for an extended leave had been granted. He had spoken the previous orn with a medic from Praxus and was planning to take Jazz there the next week. That medic had suggested he do processor stimulating exercises, such as word games or even a sparkling’s box, with different figures for Jazz to put through. Anything that would make Jazz’s thought process stir. 

After everything was sorted out it was time to wake up Jazz for his energon. Before, Prowl used to think Jazz looked adorable in the morning blinking his visor like that, confused for a couple of moment as recharge still clinged to him.  Now he couldn’t, not when the confusion didn’t go away like it had in the past.

“It’s time for breakfast, Jazz.” Prowl explained as he led Jazz to the kitchen and placed the energon cube before Jazz on the table. He sat next to him. “You have to drink energon. You need to fuel.”

Jazz blinked at him, lifting one hand to scratch the bandages as they itched him and Prowl reached to lower Jazz’s hand. “Do you understand, Jazz? You need to fuel.”

“Fuel?” Jazz repeated, looking from Prowl to the cube,

“Yes.” Prowl flickered his door-wings in a positive. “You have to pick up the cube and drink it.”

“Energon.” Jazz said, looking down at the cube with curiosity.

“Jazz.” Prowl said and waited until the other looked at him, feeling pained. “Pick up the cube, love.”

Jazz stared at him. “Love?”

“Yes. Please pick up the cube.”

Prowl felt his spark whimper when Jazz didn’t understand again the concept of something so simple. How could he, when the connection was missing in his head? With a tired sigh Prowl took the cube and placed it in Jazz’s hand, directing it up and tipping it so that the other could take a sip.

It was then that Jazz finally realized what he was supposed to do and resumed drinking the energon on his own and as Prowl watched him sadly.

Every morning was like this. No more witty comments or waking up to a goofy grin. No more morning banter or just pleasant chatter. That would all be in the past if Prowl accepted this. That’s why he was going to Praxus… Even if it was nothing more than a waste of time as all the medics said the same thing: inoperable.

* * *

It was the orn after they had come back from Praxus and Prowl was still upset over the unsatisfying results there. Having his hope lifted and then crushed all over again wasn’t easy to bear. With regret Prowl would remember that morning.

“Jazz, pick up the cube and _drink_.” Prowl said, finally exasperated as he stood up from his chair to rub his face wearily that morning.

Jazz looked at him confused, _always_ confused. He probably wondered why Prowl was upset. The Praxian flickered his door-wings as he went to crouch next to his mate. “Jazz, you _have_ to learn to drink energon on your own. I’ll have to back to work eventually and I can’t leave you alone if you’re like this.”

Jazz blinked at him. “...What work?”

“I’m an Enforcer, you know this.” Prowl said, lowering his door-wings. “Drink the cube. I won’t place it in your hand, you can do it on your own. I know you can understand me, Jazz. Just /try/, please.”

But Jazz’s mind was stuck on something else. “Enforcer?”

“Jazz!” Prowl said, his desperation making him angry as he stood up and pointed at the cube, “Pick up the cube, it’s _right there_ in front of you!”

Jazz stared at him.

“ _Please_ pick up the cube.” Prowl’s voice was pained.

The visored mech looked at the cube, still not understanding.

“Just bring the slagging thing to your lips!” Prowl yelled, lifting the cube before putting it back on the table with force to emphasize it. “ _Dammit Jazz!_ ”

The visored mech flinched at both the tone and the loud clang from the table. He felt Prowl’s anger and his lack of understanding of the situation quickly had the mech in tears. He didn’t even storm out of the room as he would’ve before; he couldn’t anymore. He wrapped his hands around himself, quiet sobs rocking his frame as Jazz started crying on the chair.

“Jazz…” Prowl said miserably, feeling his voice break as the anger dissipated and in its place stood only the aching pain. “Wait. Don’t cry, love. I didn’t mean to yell.”

As the Praxian spoke, he crouched before Jazz again, door-wings flat on his back and places his hands on the other’s shoulders, squeezing. “Please look at me, Jazz. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s okay. Here, look.” Then, Prowl reached with one hand and with the other opened one of Jazz’s hands, placing the cube there. “See? All better.”

But Jazz didn’t understand. The other had frightened him and even though the anger was gone in Prowl’s field, Jazz was still having trouble to calm down.

“I’m sorry. I’m _so sorry_.” Using the hand that wasn’t supporting the cube in Jazz’s, Prowl placed it on the other’s neck and brought their foreheads together, shuttering his visor. “Love. My love. Please, please stop crying.” And as he spoke that, Prowl felt his own tears slide down.

Prowl started crying too.

The Praxian didn’t know how long he stayed like that, optics shut and trying to calm down but then he felt something touch his cheek. His optics flickered on, vision hazy from the tears as he gazed at Jazz’s tear stained face. He wasn’t crying any more, but he looked so broken in that moment, giving Prowl a confused look.

“Prowler?” Jazz whispered.

Prowl leaned into the other’s touch, shuddering. “It’s okay, Jazz. I’m sorry.”

Jazz blinked, looking from Prowl and down to the cube. He knew something was _wrong_.

“Prowler.” This time, Jazz whimpered.

“It’s alright.” Prowl murmured, forcing himself to be strong. He couldn’t break down. He wasn’t allowed. Not when Jazz needed him to be strong. “We’ll get through this. I’ll get us through this, love. Now…” He guided Jazz’s hand holding the cube upwards, until the cube touched Jazz’s lips. “Let’s get you some energon.”

Upon tasting the energon Jazz realized its purpose and resumed drinking it on his own. Prowl tried to brush the other’s tears as carefully as he could without disturbing him and vowed to never make the other cry again.


End file.
